Unholy Ghost (Interior View Grouch) 2004 Oil on canvas 12 x 16 inches
I thought for my first post I’d just get reactions to this painting. It is one of the first in an ongoing series of paintings that seem to be teetering between representation and abstraction.
I was thinking along the lines of a thread from a little while ago when we were talking about the meaning behind Colin’s photo of the hands. I mentioned “visual clues,” and David thought that a discussion of that idea could be a post by itself. Are there clues in this piece that help you make sense of it? Or make you look more? I will be working most of the day tomorrow, but will respond when I can…
I notice first the person (feels like a man, is it the hair?) at the window, seeming more passive than expectant (shape of the shoulders?) and the green gremlin with crazed eyeball and tongue out. I try to make sense of the space they’re in and, although I can force it into something involving a painted window on a plain room with another window in it, it seems more symbolic than real. I really like the haziness which seems to go with the person and its contrast with the bright color of the gremlin. The reversed or mirror-image lettering feels like a clue that something is backwards or wrong here. The blue part keeps reading for me like a butterfly flying to the left, but I can’t really make any sense of it. I wonder about the bar-like shadow on the gremlin.
So after an initial read like that, I turn to the viewer next to me and ask what she is seeing in there…
L.
Yes I am a “…IG” (I have no idea how to make the G appear backwards) when I look at images taken without the glass (and its reflections) removed. Your painting, in this simple way, is very amusing and maybe even, complicated.
I also went to your site. I like your paintings. I like the topic a lot. And I read with interest your position in relation to your work.
Perhaps because of these raised expectations, I want more than “visual clues”; I want experiences beyond the surface of a stuffed animal or (pillowy) pill. Certainly, both the toy and the medication can lead to other realities, but for all of the comfort and softness of the Grouch, the Pill seems hard and unforgiving.
Thanks,
D.
Leslie,
Yes, I see lots of clues, but I don’t see the key to unlock the whole. Mirrors, windows, reflections, shadows……
I can’t really make sense of the space and I am wondering if I am looking at it in a too literal way. I mean, as if this were an unmanipulated photo.
As it isn’t a photo, then it doesn’t have to be a real space. It could be a space that only existed in your mind until it appeared on canvas.
I’ve said in the past that the more abstract an image is the more personal to the creator it is, and that it seems to be important for viewers to be able to imagine seeing the same thing that the photographer saw.
At the time I was unsure about how this worked for paintings. This could be where I find out!
Leslie,
I have a similar reaction to Colin’s: I see a lot of clues, but I can’t immediately put them together. This makes me want to look at the painting for a longer time, and to see a bigger version of it. Can you make it so that clicking on the image creates a link to a larger image?
There is a somewhat larger version here in the second row.
There is a creative human spirit in green with one big eye – I see the world, I am a visual being – and a big red tongue – I am powerfully expressing myself. The creative is reaching out with the right hand, doing things, taking action. (Is the green color of the spirit of Germany’s Green Party?) In the background there is a passive human whom the creative human is attempting to illuminate. Some of the creative green is already reflecting off the face of the passive type. The passive type obstructs the opening to the world, a door or window. The spiraling blue is refreshing. The mirror image letters are hieroglyphics to be deciphered.
The painting looks like it could be a translucent curtain over an off kilter view of a figure (I’m not seeing a man or a woman)in a room with a window. And yet the lettering–which I take to be saying “grouch–is perpendicular, so who knows? To me, what provides a familiar reference for entering this psychologically weird space the the distorted but familiar figure of the Grouch. But perhaps not everybody here gets this.
I like this series.
Birgit’s interpretation is hilarious.
Hi Leslie. Thanks for posting this. I think it’s a great topic, since we rely on visual clues constantly when we look at the world.
In a photograph or a realistic painting, simple clues like size, occlusion, converging lines, contrast with the background, and placement within the frame help us determine how far away things are from us. Shadows, hilights and reflections tell us about light direction and time of day. But in a painting such as yours, which is a construction, the artist has the option of providing clues that are ambiguous or contradict each other, and the viewer has to piece together a reading. I personally find these more interesting, since they are points of departure into our imagination.
My first reading, like some above, is that we are looking through a window on which are painted the letter G and the green figure. For me the clues to that are the backwards G, and the fact that we seem to be able to see through the arm of the green figure. My impression of the figure in the background is that it is a male (possibly because I see ears and that implies short hair), and that he is facing out the far window. I think since the person is in sillhouette he could as easily be facing us, but I see a slight hilight on what I read as his upper back, and that pushes my impression in that direction.
Below the arm of the green figure, I see what I read as a woman curled up on a couch. She is small compared to the couch and the other figures. That and the fact that she is just in outline, and in blue, makes me read a sadness or depression, or an introversion (in contrast to the extroverted one-eyed green person).
The letter G and the piece of the next letter make me try to complete the word. The two G words in the title make me assume it’s one of those, but I think I would prefer not to have such an easy solution. I think the title, which can’t help but influence what we see, tells us too much. A better title might be just “Interior View”. It opens up several possiblities, both of looking into and out from an interior (either physical or metaphorical). From a psychological point of view, we could read any of the 3 figures as the exterior one (and the other 2 as inner entities). Or the whole view could be looking at what’s inside, or ouside, the mind of the viewer.
I agree that the reference to Germany’s Green party is absurd but otherwise, I stick to my interpretation.
A couple other things I didn’t have time to add before, or that I notice on returning. I’m not sure whether the person is looking out the window (default assumption) or standing in front of it looking in our direction, possibly directly out at us. The reversed letters (could be non-reversed from inside the painting space) could be the start of GHOST or GROUCH, titling the painting from within it, suggesting some self-awareness on the part of the person or the gremlin/grouch. The color, of course, links the letters to what I’m calling the gremlin. But the person is treated more like a conventional ghost in a visual sense. However, that treatment is also more realistic, so I could see the gremlin as a creation of the person’s mind.
In general, I really like the ambiguity found on that line between representation and abstraction. I enjoy the exploration, but that does require that I first commit to the effort. I certainly do that in this setting, or if I saw it in someone’s house or in a gallery I’m checking out. I’m not sure I would if it were one of many, say at some art fair. Not that you should necessarily be trying to attract everyone.
The tittle makes the picture a bit creepy wich in my opinion is good as I personally like scary stories…
Birgit,
The “green figure” is Oscar the Grouch, a character from an American children’s TV show. He is a personification of negativity and passive-aggressiveness, hardly the “creative human spirit” you describe. Of course, it easy to get a different impression from the painting. But the contradiction is amusing.
David,
I didn’t see the blue lines as a figure, but of course now that you point it out, I do. But (s)he appears to be lying under the couch rather than on it.
The G could also be the beginning of “Green”.
OK, this time I’ve actually read some other comments, like having that conversation with the viewer beside me. I can see the woman on the couch that David mentioned, which certainly makes more sense than a butterfly. When I said that, I meant to be giving my first impression, I never actually thought butterfly made sense. However, I also don’t find the woman interpretation very convincing. Maybe a more detailed view would strengthen it. Although green gremlin still works for me, and I gather from Arthur’s comments that this is the Grouch which is a recurring figure, I have to agree with Birgit that the green figure is the most alive, and even seems to be somewhat happy, as if the gesture means “Yes! I’ve done it!” It could be a kind of evil glee, though…
The “green figure” is Oscar the Grouch, a character from an American children’s TV show
Arthur, thanks for telling us that. I’m basically tv-illiterate, and even more-so when it comes to kids shows. That illustrates a great point about how we each bring different references to our interpretations.
Fortunately Leslie’s image doesn’t depend entirely on us knowing her sources, because it if did her whole audience would be little kids and their parents. And only those (kids) who are the right viewing age during the run of this show.
G is Green Grouch. Children’s book? Funny (strange) to me that the Grouch has a bicep.
Having reviewed so many slides of artworks recently, too many with the reflection of the artist taking the image, it is difficult (at least right now) for me to see the ghost as a represention of the Adult, looming.
In live theatre, there are some plays that are deliberately ambiguous and/or confusing. Often, the playwright carefully doles out the clues and thus controls when the ‘Ah!’ occurs.
After you’ve been to a number of those plays, you learn not to work too hard, but to just pay attention and let things wash over you.
For me, this painting is like that. It’s fun watching everyone pick out the ‘clues’ but my approach is to just look at the painting and let it soak in, and see what impression I get.
And what I get is this: on some days, the world around me feels seamless and unified.
On other days, things around me seem disjointed and random, and I’m unable to focus on anything because the world is just one big unstructured distraction – things jumping into my field of vision, and everything being a bunch of layers that I can’t seem to organize into a meaningful whole. Ordinary things seem ominous and things that are supposed to seem amusing instead can seem scary or agressive.
And this painting gives me a bit of that feeling.
D, I remember you mentioning in a comment on another post that you had studied w/ Raymond Saunders. I’ve seen a lot of his work, but never met him or read anything about him. What is your take on the way he uses visual clues in his work?
David.
Wow. Saunders weaves the World together: the child’s world, the romantic world, the commercial world, the linear world (is there an artist alive today that has a more pure line and yet will extend it beyond it’s own capacity to blow-up into a scribble?). He ranges between the bold and the delicate. He can revive garbage, capture the everyday, be musical, historical, and unequivocally aesthetic. He even quilts (in a manner). He is curious about everything. Possibilites.
I do not think of all that he includes as clues (I never feel that he is trying to be elusive, that he knows more and is holding back), instead, they just are: combines, representations of the things that interest him and perhaps, help him make sense of a world, increasingly complicated.
Thanks for asking David.
D.
Fortunately Leslie’s image doesn’t depend entirely on us knowing her sources, because it if did her whole audience would be little kids and their parents. And only those (kids) who are the right viewing age during the run of this show.
I’m neither a little kid nor a parent (nor do I watch much TV), but I think recognizing the character is pretty important. Sesame Street had been on the air in the States since 1969 (yes I looked it up), so I’m surprised that I seem to be the only one familiar with the character. And as I understand it, the U.S. likes to export its popular culture around the globe. So it isn’t exactly an obscure reference, or at least I doubt its intended as such.
Sure, the painting makes sense without this knowledge. But what you’d get is quite different from what Leslie surely intended. For one thing, it would be missing much of its humor.
Sesame Street had been on the air in the States since 1969 (yes I looked it up), so I’m surprised that I seem to be the only one familiar with the character.
I’d recognize Big Bird, the Cookie Monster, and the Count. But since I haven’t ever really sat down and watched the show, I’ve only just caught glimpses of it when visiting friends or family members that had kids (who happened to be watching when I was there).
I didn’t recognize the character, but I still thought it was funny. Whenever I see a one-eyed green person I always laugh.
A.
You are not alone.
I didn’t think it even required mentioning, though I was a bit surprised to see that Oscar has such a thick tongue and seems a bit out of character. Sort of triumphantly High. Pills?
D.
I have to admit I’m probably a bit of an oddball in that regard. Especially here in L.A., where there are tv and movie stars walking around everywhere. My obliviousness to much of it is a great source of amusement to my friends, many of whom work in the industry. I remember one day my wife and I were talking with some of our friends, and they were all excited that they’d seen so-and-so at the farmers market. I said “oh, who’s she?”, and they all cracked up, not only because I didn’t know who it was, but I guess the actor was a guy. Who knew? Until recently I though Paris Hilton was a hotel in France.
Though I must say, I’d recognize Agent Cooper in a second.
Sure, the painting makes sense without this knowledge. But what you’d get is quite different from what Leslie surely intended. For one thing, it would be missing much of its humor.
That helps explain my missing key……not in the States…..no TV.
I’m like David with actors, but in fact I know Sesame Street pretty well. Still, with the cut-off view and not knowing Leslie’s practice of including these characters, I certainly didn’t guess it.
Wow! This blogging stuff IS fun. I have had a mediocre day of teaching and come back to all of these thoughts about this one painting – what a treat. To respond to everything seems absurd and not the point here, but let me say that I am thrilled by the observations – the parts that coincide with my intents and the parts that don’t are even more fascinating.
Some thoughts in response to yours, and I will have more I am sure, eventually:
Steve,
Thanks for getting it started off. The butterfly image is interesting, completely unexpected interpretation. Say more about how this image would get lost amongst others…
Karl,
I was honestly lucky enough to get the image beyond a thumbnail size – thanks to one of David’s suggestions – that I did not mess with the size too much. I kept distorting the dimensions by accident. It was late at night , but I will do better on my next post…
I am glad you want to spend time looking at the painting. That right there is a sign of “success.”
D.,
I am curious about your comment about pills being “hard and unforgiving.” I think I know what you mean but can you say more? I have gotten almost completely away from the pills by the way because they feel so literal to me.
And what is “IG?”
Birgit,
Your response was interesting, somewhat psychedelic, and unexpected. Thank you!
Arthur,
Yes, it is a view through soemthing transluscent – glad you went there.
Paul,
I appreciate your observations a lot. I am having wonderful fun reading what people are getting out of this, but I also appreciate those who want to let it soak in and not worry too much about interpretation. I am hoping the visual sensation can be “enough.”I know the kind of theatre you are talkign about and sometimes I find it exhausting to try to figure it out. But then again you can spend more time examining a still image, whereas theatre just whizzes by.
David,
I admire folks who don’t watch tv. I go through periods of not watching and then periods of extreme addiction to the most lousy, cheesy shows ever.
The specific cultural reference of Oscar the Grouch was something I was wondering about with this group in particular. I am glad some did not find it necessary, but I often have specific cultural references in my work that get lost on those from different countries, generations, backgrounds. A gentleman in his fifties bought one of my tiny paintings of “Hello Kitty” for his wife and referred to it as the little cat painting! I realized he had no idea who HK is (SHOCKING to me!!). I was even more flattered that he bought the painting wihtout knowing that! So now I know NEVER to assume people understand your specific references. Who the heck is Agent Cooper??
Arthur, I was born in 1969 – how appropriate! Who knew Sesame Street has been around that long? Thanks for that nifty factoid. I grew up with those guys. It was one of the only “acceptable” tv shows according to my parents, since it was educational and on PBS. Can you say anything more about the humor. I am fascinated by humor in art (another post perhaps) and I think it is hard to pull off without either slapping the viewer in the face with its obviousness, or losing the viewer with its obscurity.
David and D.,
I adore Raymond Saunders – what great work to look at for this topic. Can you share a good link to his work? It never quite coheres into one meaning, but I want to spend lots of time trying to piece it together.
If anyone wants more specific responses to their comments, let me know. that was a ramble off the top of my head. Thanks so much. It has been fascinating.
Leslie,
Thanks for the long response, it’s nice to hear back from the artist. What I meant about it possibly getting lost amongst many was a statement about my particular taste. This probably wouldn’t attract my attention, just because I’m more interested in other kinds of art. I think the aspect most likely to strike me and draw me in would be the figure at the window.
Having said that, I’ve really enjoyed looking at it, thinking about it, and discussing it, and I’m sure it will help broaden my appreciation.
Who the heck is Agent Cooper??
A neighbor of Paul’s :)
Twin Peaks was shot in his neighborhood.
When Sesame Street first aired in 1969, I was in junior high and beyond their target audience. By the time I graduated from high school I had pretty much entirely stopped watching tv. So I may get references to the original Star Trek or Gilligan’s Island (MaryAnn, in case anyone is wondering), but not much after. I made an exception when I heard David Lynch had created a tv show.
About the only thing I watch these days is “The Secret Life Of…” on the Food Network (my wife writes and produces episodes), and Entourage, which for some reason I saw the pilot of and ended up liking. I do see quite a few movies though.
I adore Raymond Saunders – what great work to look at for this topic. Can you share a good link to his work?
I have know any links, though you may find some through Google. I know he shows w/ Hunsaker Schlesinger here in Santa Monica, and I believe he still teaches at CCAC in Oakland.
David,
Oooh, that Agent Cooper. David Lynch gives me the creeps – I guess he’s supposed to. The car crash scene in “Wild at Heart” still haunts me.
I don’t want to give out the “answers” to the clues, but I feel compelled to explain the blue under Grouch – it is his trash can (that’s where he lives for those of you who don’t know). Obviously it is very distorted. I NEVER saw the figure – kind of spooky!
Steve, thanks for clarifying. I know this blog has opened me up to more photography than I would normally look at, so it’s a good benefit…
Who the heck is Agent Cooper??
A neighbor of Paul’s :)
Twin Peaks was shot in his neighborhood
I’d like you to know that I ate at the Mar-T before Lynch came along and made it famous. I don’t recall whether the coffee was any good or not.
I don’t go there now. North Bend is too… well, let me put it this way – they have stop lights.
David Lynch gives me the creeps…
I’m going to see him tomorrow night. They’re screening his new film at the LA County Museum, and he’s giving a talk afterwards. Am looking forward to it. I’ve read some interesting interviews w/ him over the years.
L.
“Hard and unforgiving”?
It seems to me that a constant theme running through your work is the relation between the worlds of a parent (“pills”) and a child (“stuffed animals”). I like how they define one another: a adult unable to handle parenting? a neglected child, left to imaginary friends? The work feels personal.
But is it? I am not certain (and maybe I am not suppose to know) what your “position” is on this. Why? Because everything is painted equally. The same strokes, tone, shapes (and maybe that is why the pills appear so “literal” to me (and you)). I was just proposing this: if pills are “hard and unforgiving” (like I have experienced them to be) and their consequences, ultimately real, how should one paint them? Certainly they are not to play with. Or were they?
Often, I feel the limitations of painting. That it is difficult to not have a painting be about painting. I guess that is why I am often drawn to paintings that just accept this. For example, “Unholy Ghost (interior view)” (2003) by Leslie Holt.
As for “…IG”? What a curious reversal: it is simply your “visual clue” (though as I said I cannot figure out how to reverse the “G” here, without taking a picture of it and then making it transparent and flipping it vertically). Of course (or, I guess not), I read it as a direct reference to Oscar the Grouch.
RSaunders? He shows at Stephen Wirtz Gallery in SF (which by the way is a terrific gallery) and somewhere in Paris. (note: his work is big and the detail of his drawings is small).
http://www.wirtzgallery.com/
Do you like his work?
Steve,
I think the aspect most likely to strike me and draw me in would be the figure at the window.
The most photographic bit?
Leslie,
Even with the cultural references supplied by others, I still can’t decode the picture. Any you know what? I like it that way. This really is a picture to let the imagination run with.
Earlier this week, Guy Yates posted this picture which, minus the colour, has similar properties.
Yes
D, thanks for the link to Wirtz. I think Saunders is a good person to look at as an example when discussing visual clues.
I do not think of all that he includes as clues (I never feel that he is trying to be elusive, that he knows more and is holding back)…
I think of visual clues not as elusiveness or pieces of deliberate mystery, but as sort of a visual shorthand, or things we see that suggest certain relationships. If we see two images of cows on the same page and one is much smaller than the other, it’s a visual clue that the larger cow is probably closer to us. Other spatial clues include nearness to the bottom of the page, contrast w/ the background, occlusion, etc.
Saunders’ work combines imagery that is defined by different means: illusionistic rendering, sillhouette, line drawing, and attached objects. In a sense we could say they have different levels of reality, and yet they are arranged in a way that suggests they are interacting. There is one painting on the Wirtz site of a woman, drawn in profile, holding drawn stems of flowers ending in painted petals. In the lower left of the panel, flowerlike shapes are freefloating, in impasto. Across the upper part of the panel is a horizontal line (near wall, distant horizon?). The whole thing takes place on a blackboard-like surface. So some visual clues are implying spatial depth, and others are reminding us that we are looking at a flat surface. It’s not like traditional Renaissance view-through-a-window illusionism. There are contradictory clues, and it’s our imagination that finds different ways to resolve the discrepancies. It’s great work.
PS – D, I’ve always loved the delicate precision of his line drawing in the paintings. Do you know what he’s using? Is it chalk, or conte crayon, or something else? Does he seal it w/ something?
David.
You are right. I entirely agree.
RS is using chalk and I asssume a gentle fixitive.
If you make it up to SF, ask Stephen to take you back to look at Saunder’s drawings on paper.